Last week, JCB garnered a fine pile of cards, and this is the most dramatic! Even more so than those with “50” on the front!

I dreamed that JCB and I were at the White House, in a holding room that had the feel of the room I waited in to see if I’d be called for jury duty, except this one had tall windows letting in sunlight along three walls.

There was an air of expectation, and a woman came around to talk to each group. When she got to us, she had a bottle of pills, and she gave us eight, saying they were antibiotics that we had to take starting now in preparation for our “audience.” They had a blue wash on the surface, somewhat like Easter-egg dye but it came off on your hand (no M&M’s these!).

I suffered some consternation because I didn’t know when we were supposed to take the rest of the series, but did take one.

Then I woke up.


  1. Maureen says:

    Perhaps signifying that we’ve all taken pills to accept the stuff laid upon us by the Bushie? That’s likely too literal, though, and if I say more I’ll end up at Guantanomo. Egads.

  2. Sammy says:

    No, I will protect you, I promise: in the face of any legal action against me by Homeland Security (in the style of McCarthyism), I will not reveal who my commenters are!